Not The Trip He Expected
by Laser Lance 720
Summary: Snape decided to go on a trip through the portraits. After all, the monks on fifth had the best booze. And they were semi willing to share. It was supposed to be an easy trip. If only it had been. He wasn't sure which encounter that night was the worst. The blundering knight that stabbed him. Or the brainless brat he caught making out with his godson.


Written for **Divination** (Use at least three of the given prompts – Prompts selected: [word] Obsidian, [colour] ebony, [word] Timeless) **The Huge TV Quote Bucket** (#56 "If you wanna see me naked, all you had to do was ask." Damon Salvatore, The Vampire Diaries)

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. Not a single thing. So this is one of those eighth year fics. Because why not.

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They made a portrait for him. They hung it up in the Headmaster's office. It was supposed to be an honor or something, but really Snape had wanted to be left alone. But even in death, Severus Snape was forced to watch over the brats that wandered these halls.

It wasn't all bad though. After all, Minerva was Headmaster and he did enjoy watching her scare little troublemakers back in line. And not that he'd ever admit it, but he had missed Albus and did look forward to their nightly portrait chats. When Minerva added into the conversations between the two past Headmasters, Snape felt almost like he was home again.

He wasn't going to tell them, or anyone else that though. He would keep up that uninterested sneer until the day his paint ran. Then again, he was timeless now, so it was a secret he would long keep.

But it really wasn't all bad. Snape had figure out early on that with a little bit of determination, some concentration, and a desire to flee before Albus began a touchy feely conversation, he could invade other portraits. This was an especially good discovering when he heard the Monks that resided on the fifth floor had a store of ail on them. Severus made many trips. Albus frowned upon those constant visits, though they be less frequent as compared to a few months ago.

Severus was on the way back from one of those visits when the incident occurred. He was moving through a painting containing a gaggle of finely dressed women, who giggled and muttered behind their fans as he passed through. This wasn't a painting he traveled though often. With a sneer, he realized he was lost.

Running a hand through his long overgrown ebony locks – honestly, could the painter have done a favor and trimmed his hair – Snape glance about in search for a familiar path. He recognized the floor they were on, but not the hallway.

Holding his bottle of stolen booze in his hand, Snape decided to venture on. He'd find his way back eventually. It's not like he didn't have the time to waste.

"Ah, who dares enter here? Draw your weapon and a fight you greasy haired coward!"

Snape's obsidian glare was set to murder as he took in the man bouncing about in front of him. Oh God, he'd come to this part of the castle. Drawing his bottle of brandy closer to his chest, he glared at the knight before him. "Sir. I am not in the mood."

"So says you. I said draw!" Sir Cadogan bounced back and forth, his armor clanking at the motion.

Snape only rolled his eyes. "I am leaving."

He turned, attempting to make his way back to the portrait with the very nice ladies in it. Sir Cadogan blocked his way. The tip of his long sword was pressed dangerously into Snape's lower torso. Any more pressure, and the man would have a new navel.

Sir Cadogan leveled him with a sharp gaze. His head was tilted down, the lid of his helmet dropping over his eyes. "I said draw, coward."

"Use that word one more time," Snape warned. This was not how he planned on spending the night. All he'd wanted was to snag a drink. This wasn't the plan.

"I said draw," Sir Cadogan pressed the blade a little deeper. If Snape were flesh, he would have bleed. He half wondered if a portrait could die in such a manner. Maybe he wasn't as timeless as he originally thought.

"I am leaving." Snape turned, making his way towards the other end of the portrait.

It took Sir Cadogan an extra second to scramble after him, still in search for that fight. Luckily for Snape, the knight lost his line of sight as his helmet dropped over his eyes. He plowed straight into the cow that shared this painting. Snape let out a chuckle as he watched the creature mow in displeasure. He should have been paying more attention because he tripped right out of the painting.

He'd seen it happen before, never to him. Righting himself in the new painting, Snape got a sense of his new surroundings. His bottle was broken. That alone was enough to frustrate him. The alcohol was soaking the knees of his pants and the ends of his robes. He ignored that factor as he stood.

The portrait he was in was fairy dark. There was only a lone chair in the thin, and rather tall painting. It was located at the end of an empty and dark hall. Gathering his wits about him, Snape tried to leave the portrait. He found he couldn't.

He let a curse escape his lips. There a few painting like this scattered through the Halls of Hogwarts. It was hard to find the exit in these types of paintings, and one was never quite sure how they got into it. Or why they trapped their inhabitants in this manner. But he was in one of those paintings. He was stuck at the moment.

He considered calling for help. He could hear Sir Cadogan calling for war a bit away. He didn't want to deal with that damn knight though, so it looked like he was stuck unless he found his own way out. He'd most likely have to wait until some kid found him in the morning.

No sooner than he sat down in that rickety chair, did he hear the sounds. Sitting upright in the chair, Snape glared out at the forms moving down the hall. He caught a head of blonde, and a head of black.

Squinting to see who was wondering out passed curfew, and debating about rather to berate them for breaking the rules, or to ask for assistance first, Snape wanted to believe he was going to get free. The pair of boys moving down the hall had very different ideas on what they were going to be doing though.

Without warning, the black haired boy pinned the other against the wall. It was too dark for Snape to see their faces, but he heard the bustle of robes and the grunting of what he prayed was not pleasure. The brunette pulled the blonde closer. The blonde in question had his arms draped around the other boy's shoulder, and his legs wrapped around the waist.

This kind of display of affection and teen lust was sickening. Snape prayed for some release so he didn't have to watch these two teenagers go at each other. He almost screamed for them to stop, and would have had it not been for the comment he heard.

"Merlin, Potter," it was a voice Snape knew far too well, "if you wanna see me naked, all you had to do was ask."

"Oh hush," Potter's voice came back with a light tease. "Besides, if we're doing _that_ , we might want to find a less populated area."

There was the sound of boots hitting the floor as Draco withdrew from where he'd been pushed up against the wall. He flipped them around, Potter now being the one caught. They were now a bit closer to where Severus was at, and he could see them clearly.

Draco was learning closer to Potter, their lips just inches away. "Why not just go for it here. After all, it's just you and me."

"I beg to differ," Snape growled.

The look on the two boy's faces was priceless. They seemed a little shaken by the interruption. Draco looked practically scandalized as he took in the painting of his Godfather. Snape should have gotten some satisfaction out of the fright he'd given them. He couldn't feel anything other than nausea as he tried to remove the images of prior from his mind.

"Professor," Potter was scratching the back of his neck. There was a dark ting of pink to his cheeks. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question?" Snape glared at the boy. "It is after all past curfew. So do explain to me why you two are out wandering the halls, trying to inhale the other, instead of tucked in bed."

"We were actually heading to a bed," Draco muttered, a smirk pulling onto his lips. It didn't dull down the blush on his white skin.

"I don't want your cheek Mr. Malfoy." Snape turned frustrated ebony eyes onto the boy.

"We'll go to bed now, sir." Potter reached out, taking Draco by the arm and tugging him back a step.

"Not so quickly." Snape held out a hand, stopping the boys from fleeing. He looked them over once more. They had grown a great deal since the war's end, nearly seven months ago. Neither boy was no longer skin and bones and bruised eyes. It was a nice change.

He did wonder about the closeness between the two. The last thing he had expected to see was Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, tied up in each other's tongues. It was an alarming, and slightly disturbing thought. This was not what he expected to happen.

"Um, sir?" Draco's voice drew him from his thoughts.

"I will overlook this," Snape paused to search for the right word, "infraction, if you can be of assistance."

"What do you need sir?"

"It appears I am stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Stuck. I am unable to exit from this portrait. If you would be so kind, I require your assistance in this matter."

"How can we help," Draco asked. He wasn't looking at Snape though. The blush was still on his cheeks.

"Go fetch the care taker. Or a teacher," Snape sighed. "Jakens. Get Jakens. He should be able to be able to lift this blasted hex off this portrait."

"If I can ask sir," Potter spoke up, "how did you get in there?"

"That is not a matter of importance to you." Snape would rather not regal the tale of stunted knights, broken alcohol bottles, and the revolution he was still feeling after watching this boy try and shove his tongue down the other's throat. It was more than he wanted to remember. This was not how he wanted to see these children.

After all, he'd just wanted a nice bottle of wine.

"We'll get help Professor," Draco tugged Potter away. "Just sit tight. Don't go anywhere."

If Snape had the ability, he would have wacked that boy. Before they were out of ear shot, Snape heard one last bit of conversation.

"You do realize once we find a professor," Potter's voice came, "we've as sure as signed our detention slips."

"Point," Draco replied. "So we might as well enjoy ourselves before the sentence is given."

Snape dropped his head into his hands and sighed. His release and sanity was relying on these hormone driven teenagers. And he didn't even have a glass of brandy to hold him over during this wait.


End file.
